


Luran/Alstaer Story Compilation

by Yuuchansan



Series: Aprea [2]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Aprea, Dark Fantasy, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Elves, High Fantasy, LGBTQ Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2019-10-23 22:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 14,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17692286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuuchansan/pseuds/Yuuchansan
Summary: Alstaer is the young elven prince of the Mesaje ice desert; a socially awkward druid with too many emotions. Luran is a 137-year-old fey wizard with a proficiency in winking.Somehow, they end up liking each other.✩Stories from the Aprea Dungeons and Dragons campaign, focusing on the relationship between Alstaer Gaemon and Luran D'hane.





	1. The Fang

The dock was a bustling place, people toing and froing in streams of colour and noise. Crewmen staggered in from a rough voyage, and traders heaved boxes laden with fruit, fabrics and glittering sheets of glass and silver. Villagers crowded in to watch as if it were a performance, some handing over bags of gold for goods or otherwise bartering with the suppliers.

Alstaer Gameon stayed fixed in place despite the movement, taking it all in as he turned his staff in hand, digging fingernails into the wood’s grooves to keep steady.

It was a little late, Alstaer noted as he squinted up at the falling sun. Already, it was well past noon, cutting it close. He had been waiting for two hours now, to meet the sailor supposed to be his ally.

Luran D’hane was a man acquainted with Alstaer by the prince’s mother. In a moment of desperation, he had called out to her, asking for anything, anyone to help him in his quest to find Shu. Fighting alone in the Underdark for two years had left him wasted, and perhaps she had pitied the boy, for a raven arrived not long after he had swallowed his pride and begged. It carried a scroll with a name and a brief description of a merchant sailor from Kalkarne.

Though Alstaer sent and received numerous letters from him, he still could not force himself to be at ease. Meeting a person through the ink they pressed into parchment was a far cry from a face to face encounter.

  
Talking and general socialisation was something Alstaer could not really credit himself in.

As he nervously turned his staff in hand again though, he spotted a figure descending from a newly moored ship, landing lithely on the deck before straightening up. Deep red hair, pushed back to better reveal olive skin and yellow-green eyes. The complexion alone was indicative enough of Kalkarne. The boat too, was a merchant vessel. From all descriptions, this was Luran.

As Alstaer prepared himself to speak then, looking down at the ground to gather his thoughts, he felt something brush past, and when he next looked up, the man was gone. And walking away. Rather quickly. A little hasty, he ran forwards, catching himself before Luran and looking up from under his hood. Luran raised a heavy eyebrow, a few crew members by now disembarking behind.

For a moment, Alstaer did not know what to say. It had been at least a month since he last opened his mouth to speak, and even back then it had not been for human conversation. Rather, he had preferred the company of birds for the past year already.

Faced with an actual person then, he bit the inside of his cheek, worrying his staff in hand and indicating the boat beside him. He could not exactly tweet birdsong at Luran, so he caught his breath before speaking.

  
“Ah, can I... hitch a ride? With you?”

No introduction, no precursor, he had automatically jumped on the end goal. Straight to the point: for the two of them to have a nice little chat aboard Luran’s sea vessel. It made perfect, simple sense in Alstaer’s head. But he had forgotten a crucial thing: that was not how most people worked. People were opportunistic. And Alstaer had inadvertently made himself the perfect punchline for a joke.

“A ride?” the man paused before grinning, obviously amused at the wording, “You know, I don’t swing that way, but my good friend Kitas might be up for it? If you ask nicely.”

He indicated a surly looking dwarf over his shoulder, who shot a mildly interested, mildly drunken look in Alstaer’s direction.

The boy felt his face flood with hot blood, flushing from his hairline down to his chest with furious embarrassment.

“Ah-! You...”

He could not even finish his sentiment as he nearly turned and fled, but looking at the still grinning man he could not bring himself to back down in the face of such cockiness.

Instead, he pulled his hood down to reveal his face, Luran’s eyes flickering now in recognition, though he did not speak the prince’s name. As per request. Though perhaps Alstaer was underfed, short and sunburnt, he was still a royal who hopefully commanded a little respect.

But though he knew who the boy was by now, Luran barely changed his attitude as he clapped Alstaer across the shoulder and gestured with another bright smile, “Come now, what a face to make! I’m only having some fun with you. Alas, rather than taking you for a little cruise, I’m in need of a drink. I believe there is a tavern nearby, would you join me?”

“Huh?”

Alstaer barely had a chance to take in the invite before he was swept away, the dwarf Kitas making a brief noise of disappointment as they disappeared into the crowd.

It was busy, hot and confusing, but Luran seemed to know exactly where he was going, keeping the serene smile on his face as he pushed Alstaer onwards. The boy looked up every now and then in question (and slight discomfort), but was beautifully ignored until they reached the outside of a rather rundown looking tavern, the words ‘Salt and Plank’ painted onto a rotting wooden sign swinging over the door.

“Yes, a drink will do us good,” Luran declared as he bowed them inside, the place already packed with people despite the evening having only just settled in.


	2. The Fang, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Immediate continuation of previous chapter

Luran found them a table with relative ease, people parting as he strode forwards and located a booth by the window. A few of the crowd eyed him with recognition, Alstaer noticed, some even wary as they stepped aside. Luran didn’t seem like a particularly intimidating person to him though, bar the inappropriate remarks. He sniffed in remembrance of the shaming back on the docks, but Luran gave him no room to reconsider as he sat him at the table and immediately called for drinks, sliding into the seat opposite Alstaer.

  
As a tankard the size of his head was placed in front of the prince, he startled and backed up, watching the amber liquid inside swirl. Luran, noticing his discomfort, laughed again.

  
“You don’t drink? Fine, more for me,” he hummed as he took a swig from his own even larger mug.

  
Alstaer watched as a good portion of the liquor disappeared down Luran’s throat.

  
Facing him now, he recognised some familiar features in the man’s face. His eyes in particular, angular and almost feline, lit up in a way that wasn’t quite human. Peridot green, catching the light of even the dim torch brackets. His ears had a slight point, and his features betrayed a fey race. He had not specified in his letters, but Alstaer found his mind wander back to Karul, the only man he’d seen bear a resemblance to Luran. Thaushiri, that had been what Karul had called his kind.

  
“Are you listening?” Luran asked then, leaning his chin into his hand with a wide smile, and Alstaer realised Luran had been talking the entire time he’d been staring.

  
“Ah, yes, I’m…yes,” he mumbled, taking his tankard and pulling it towards him, giving it a suspicious sniff before faking a sip, “Sorry.”

  
“You’re a strange one,” Luran laughed, pushing aside his now empty drink and leaning forwards to continue their conversation.

  
They spoke for a little while, or rather, Alstaer made vague noises of confirmation as Luran began to lay out the information he had on Shu and the current situation in Kalkarne. Alstaer knew only vaguely of the country itself, and in that he was aware that they worshipped sphinxes. In his letters to Luran, he had admitted that Shu was very likely part, if not half such a creature. At least, that’s how his father had referred to her.

  
“Hm, well, to be honest, it’ll be a bit tricky,” Luran mused as he swirled a new tankard, this time filled with a darker liquid, “Kalkarne’s not in the best political position these days, you know. And the sphinxes, let’s just say it wouldn’t be too safe for your friend to be there at the moment. What I can do for you though-”

  
His smile returned in full force as he leant across the table to better look at Alstaer (who was still shrunk back in his booth like a cornered rabbit).

  
“-you can hire me, and I can perhaps source some more pertinent information for you. Maybe take you down the Aprean coast, if you have the, ah, funds. Could say, a hundred gold for an initial payment? That’d get you to Ironstone.”

  
Oh. Alstaer looked at the man with narrowed eyes now, finally clueing in to what he was angling at. He wanted money. This was, first and foremost, a sales pitch.

  
“Well, that’s a kind offer,” he finally replied quietly, looking down, “I’ll take it under considera-”

  
“WHO WANTS TO FIGHT THE UNBEATABLE, THE UNSTOPPABLE, STRONG KAS OF THE ZERO?!!”

  
There was a roar of sound that startled Alstaer right back in his chair, spilling his drink as he looked around wildly for the source of the ruckus.

  
He was expecting some large, imposing orc perhaps, but as he turned, his eyes found a small, obviously inebriated female dwarf standing in the centre of the tavern, brandishing a drink in one hand and a closed fist with the other. She swung around, repeating her challenge, a cocky grin on her face as the patrons backed off, leaving a clear circle around her on the floor.

  
“Ohh, sounds interesting,” Luran said brightly, standing up and clapping Alstaer on the shoulder, “I’ll be right back, my friend.”

  
“Wha-? You’re, ah, wait, I don’t-” Alstaer floundered as Luran began to stride towards the dwarven woman, biting his lip before jumping up and pushing to the front of the crowd.

  
Already, Luran was facing and introducing himself to the dwarf, Strong Kas of the Zero, bowing theatrically and then taking a step back. Immediately, Luran dropped his stance, sizing his opponent up as he tilted his head from side to side. He seemed to consider for a moment before removing his gloves, curling his fingers before extending them, revealing sharp, silver nails.

  
In less than a half hour of them meeting, Luran D’hane had started a barfight.


	3. The Siren Sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: mild gore

A little haggard, Alstaer paused to catch his breath as his comrades began to climb the edges of the Siren Sound. Some leapt with ease whilst others clumsily pulled their way up the rigging, trying to be as silent as possible. It was mildly amusing to see Shrekimus, with his heavy armour, doing his very best to be stealthy in his ascent. 

“Hey, up here.” 

Alstaer tilted his head up to see Luran leant over the edge of the ship, completely at ease and not at all out of breath despite having just scaled the side. Really, the prince doubted he would look so blasé after such a feat.

As Alstaer stared at him, Luran grinned and curled his fingers under his chin, giving the prince a wink as he hummed, “Enjoying the view?”

Instantaneously, Alstaer’s face lit up like a beacon and he was forced to drop his gaze. Luran D’hane was proving to be a difficult person to deal with, really. 

After a few deep inhalations, he took a few steps back before he ran at the ship, jumped up and tried to grab the railing. Unfortunately, though he was fairly lithe, Alstaer simply was not strong, and his hand barely made purchase on the ship before it slid and he began to fall. And he would have hit the water below too, if it was not for Luran snatching him, the man’s fingers digging deep into Alstaer’s wrist.

He flinched in response and took a brief look at the silver nails embedded painfully in his skin. In that moment, he remembered Karul’s nails, the same strange, metallic colour. Alstaer had never known how sharp they were though, as he had never been so personally acquainted with them dug into his flesh like this before. 

Luran tugged him a little then and Alstaer grabbed onto the man’s arm to hoist himself up with some effort. As soon as his feet hit the deck, he nodded quietly in thanks before he hurried ahead, embarrassed at his failure. He did not have time to stall the others. They had an objective to complete, after all. 

“Down here!” Shrekimus’ voice sounded from the floor below, enough for Alstaer to follow and find the rest of the group gathered before a long, darkened corridor. 

“Oh dear, I do not like this, no no…” 

The goblin they had captured before was mumbling to himself, fiddling with his dirty smock as Alstaer caught up, followed immediately by Luran.

“What don’t you like, Krism? Tell us, if you know something,” Shrekimus ordered as he pointed at the corridor ahead, “Is it safe to proceed?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” Krism whined, by now positively twitchy with anxiety, “They don’t tell us everything, but there is traps, there is, traps on the ship.”

“I see. Then, you shall go first,” Shrekimus said simply as he jerked his chin at the corridor ahead, “You have a far better chance at detecting them than us, after all.”

Krism looked up with a painfully tragic expression, his eyes wide and lip trembling. For a good moment, Alstaer considered saying something on the goblin’s behalf, though a glance at the imposing Shrekimus silenced him. 

“Alright. Krism will go…” the goblin whimpered as he turned to the corridor, beginning to shuffle down it. 

The rest of the group was quiet, waiting, but it seemed that the path was indeed clear ahead as Krism looked back at them. 

“Let’s establish an order and follow then,” Shrekimus declared, placing a hand on his chest, “I will bring up the head. The rest of you stay close behind.”

As the others arranged themselves, mostly opting to stay at the back, Alstaer sighed before stepping up to take place behind Kas. She was the only member of the group he felt comfortable with so far, and if he was able to follow anyone’s lead, it was hers.

Shrekimus began to follow Krism down the corridor, and so the rest of them tailed him to snake around and deeper into the ship, in fact deeper than the ship should have been, Alstaer thought. They would be underwater at this point, surely, and yet the Siren Sound showed no sign of stopping. 

They entered a larger corridor several levels down, Krism still plodding on ahead, his form slightly subsumed into the dimness. And perhaps, they were all becoming a little accustomed to the uneventful passage. Until a sharp thwack sliced through the air, and a tiny moan sounded from the darkness.

“Krism?” Shrekimus questioned as he led the party slightly forwards, though stopping when the goblin came into view. 

Krism was stood in the centre of the corridor, hands clutched at his chest. All around him, blood was starting to pool, though it did not seem to have a single point of origin. Rather, it leaked from the goblin’s sides, his shoulders, his head. And as they watched, Krism split in two, his separate halves smacking the floor.  
Alstaer stood frozen as the rest of the party huddled back into a circle, his eyes fixed on the bisected goblin. What had done this? They had not seen a thing.

As he wavered then, he took a step forwards to catch his balance, his hand touching the wall for a brief moment. As his fingers brushed the wood, he heard the sound of something unlatching, then beginning to fall, right above his head.

“Look out!”

Alstaer barely had the time to look up before Luran grabbed his shoulders to spin them around, able to push Alstaer onto the floor before he was knocked to the side. Above them, a huge axe rotated, its blunt side having struck Luran as the deadly blade swept back and out of sight. 

“Luran!” Alstaer scrambled forwards to grab the man’s hand and tug him out of the axis of the axe, propping him against the wall a few metres back from where the trap appeared to be set up. 

Luran’s head was bloodied, and on the right side there was a huge gash from his hairline to just below his eye, the tiniest hint of white skull visible over his brow bone. Alstaer raised his hand in a panic, tiny sparks of weak, terribly weak magic escaping his fingers. They seemed to seep into Luran’s skin as they touched it, and his wound knit over slightly, enough that his skull was quickly covered by scar tissue. It was not enough to properly heal the man though, and Alstaer knew they would have to leave him behind from there.


	4. The Magic Carpet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter occurs directly after Luran abandons the group following their capture after leaving the Siren Sound. They have managed to escape the castle they were being held in, but were ambushed in their attempt. 
> 
> Oh, and Alstaer's just been hit with a giant fireball.

It was burning. Flamed licked and clawed at his entire body, forcing him back one, two steps. A wall of sound reverberated around the area as Alstaer sank to his knees, clutching his chest as the fire forcefully penetrated his armour. It sent the group flying, but most of all the slight boy, already perched on the edge of the cliff.   
With a rocking movement, almost elegant, he was knocked backwards, inertia gathering until he was being pulled over the cliff’s lip. He managed only a last snatch of air before he was falling and losing sight of the others, surrounded by fire. Before he hit the ground, he shut his eyes.

Only, his body did not crumple onto the rocks below. Rather, his fingers grazed fabric as he automatically latched onto a plush surface. A hand shot out to steady him and the fire eating away at his form died, allowing him to look up. 

“That was almost very nasty,” a voice greeted him, face a little haggard, though smiling. 

Luran. Luran who had abandoned them before in the tavern, who had thrown himself out of the window to escape and leave them to their fates. He who had fought by their side, only to run when the Thieve’s Guild had captured their party.

This same Luran leant in and emptied a potion down Alstaer’s throat, breathing a little life into the fairly totaled body.

It took a moment, but Alstaer seemed to rejuvenate, the ashen grey leaving his skin and the burns fading to pale scars. And with that, his thoughts seemed to hasten, suddenly turning into a quickened mishmash of conflicting emotions at seeing the man again. He had betrayed them, and yet he was here. And Alstaer honestly could not explain why that made him so happy. A moment of relief even, before a shout from Edge below diverted his attention. 

“We need to go,” he spoke then, turning over onto his knees and patting the surface beneath them. A flying carpet, no less. If anything, Luran had flair. “We need to circle back.”

He was trying hard not to make eye contact with the other, focusing below on where the party were still recovering. Keeping his head clear was a priority, and the last time he had been caught up in Luran’s presence he had ended up writhing on the tavern floor, poisoned. 

As he surveyed below, he spotted Kas, crouched in a defensive position some thirty feet down. She was looking back to where he had fallen to his apparent death, having not seen the carpet yet. 

“You’re injured, there’s little you can do,” Luran began to point out, but Alstaer was already rifling in his pack, pulling out a tiny woven sack and plunging his hand inside. 

A faintly glowing orb emerged clutched in his fingers, the boy not hesitating to crawl to the side of the carpet, directing his hand at Edge below and throwing the orb down.


	5. Alstaer Forgives Luran

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Occurs after the group's escape on the magic carpet, following a close call with the demon Laverna.

The moment the carpet touched down, Alstaer jumped off it and strode away, arms folded against his chest. The rest of the party filed off at a leisurely pace, but he stood his ground over by a tree as they exchanged thanks with Luran. He was still struggling with how he felt, his face hot and his heart thumping uncomfortably in his chest. Was he angry? Perhaps. Why he felt so furious though, he could not tell. Or, he simply did not want to admit it.

The party gathered around him soon enough, Kas throwing her arms briefly around Alstaer’s waist to hug him. 

“I thought you were a goner for a second there,” she lamented, giving the boy a little shake before she smacked his shoulder and let go, “Don’t do that again, ‘kay?”

He managed a small smile but did not unfold his arms as he looked back at Luran, the man stood in front of him. And, actually, Luran looked a little sheepish. Even if he had returned in the end, he had abandoned them, after all. That betrayal was fresh in Alstaer’s mind, and he genuinely appeared still hurt by it. 

There was a moment where they simply held each other’s gaze, Alstaer’s eyes narrowed in an unusually hard expression. Somehow though, they did not quite hold the venom he intended, and he faltered before turning away from Luran, about to continue walking down the path. 

Only, he felt a hand close around his wrist, pulling him back around. 

“I’m sorry,” Luran murmured, looking Alstaer straight in the eye, “Really, I am.”

Alstaer was perfectly silent for a few moments, as if processing his final judgement. Then, after due consideration, he tugged his hand away. Luran’s eyes widened for a moment, though Alstaer did not further reject him. 

Instead, he reached out and flicked Luran on the nose, in the same way one might punish a misbehaving cat. 

“Fine. I forgive you.”


	6. Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luran has to leave, since he's an NPC. But Alstaer still wants to say a proper goodbye.

Alstaer was silent, as usual. The tavern they were drinking in was rowdy anyway, and drowned out most of the noise as the rest of the group talked, Kas chatting away by his side. Every now and then, she would elbow him in the ribs to call attention to his antisocial behaviour, but he did not have the presence of mind to really respond. Even when she began to bruise him. 

Alstaer had been deep in thought for the whole day, since they had left the tavern baths. Though he had certainly been angry at the perceived betrayal from Luran before, he had to wonder what had provoked such a response within him. After all, Alstaer did not really get angry, bar the occasional outburst at his father. He simply did not express himself, both due to a simple inability to do so, and a desire not to be read by others. So, the question he had had to ask himself, was why he had been so hurt by Luran when he had thought the man had abandoned them. As time passed at the table, and Alstaer dwelt on the question, he came to an answer that he did not particularly like, but knew to be true. He cared for Luran, and denying it, especially to himself, was rather pointless. 

Just as he had settled on that conclusion, Luran himself cleared his throat and set down his last drink for the evening as he stood up from the table.

“I think I will be on my way now,” he said, “It has been a pleasure, for the most part. Until we next meet then, which will hopefully not be too soon.” 

Avrulne and Selphie laughed and raised their drinks, Shrek giving a solemn nod as Luran bowed himself out. Kas looked scandalised as she turned to Alstaer then, throwing up her hands in an exasperated gesture. He said nothing in response, his expression a little dazed as his mind seemed to run at half speed. It was only when she shoved him again that he blinked and sat upright, his gaze sharpening. 

Luran was leaving. He had to follow. 

Without another word, Alstaer swung off the bench and half-walked, half-ran after Luran, pushing aside the tavern door as it made to slam shut in his face. 

“Luran, wait, a moment!” he tried to call, though his voice came out in a rather regular volume, just barely enough to catch the other man’s attention. 

“Ah, Brian,” Luran turned with a bemused smile, paused in his getaway, “What can I do for you, my friend?”

Alstaer stopped as Luran used his false name, stood a few feet away from him. Luran had not uncovered his identity to the rest of the Krism Kollective, and Alstaer himself had made no reference to it, nor to the fact that his mother was the one who had sent him to Luran in the first place. They had stayed rather quiet about the whole situation in fact, almost pretending they knew nothing of each other. 

“Luran. You know who I am,” Alstaer finally spoke as he straightened up, the better to look the other in the eye, “And now, I suppose I know you, somewhat.”

“Hm,” Luran’s smile grew before he nodded, “And what of it?”

“I want to be of help to you. You spoke of the unrest in Kalkarne, of the situation with the sphinxes and their deposal…I want to be able to help uncover the truth of that, one day. I know I cannot now, in my position. But I hope, even if indirectly, I can be of assistance in bettering the situation for you, and Kalkarne.”

Alstaer had to take a few deep breaths before and after he spoke. If he had gotten slightly better at conversation in recent days, he was still pathetically out of practice, after all. 

“Ah, that is a kind offer. However, there is indeed little you can do now, Alstaer,” Luran finally used the prince’s real name, dropping the mocking ‘Brian’, “We will have to wait and see. You have an interesting circle of friends now, so perhaps your goals will change. You cannot know what the future holds. But, thank you, for being willing to do such a thing for me.”

He paused and appeared to think for a moment, his brow furrowed. 

“May I ask, actually, why you would be willing to do that for me?”

It was the question that Alstaer had been trying to answer all day. Perhaps even before that, he had had an inkling. And as Luran asked, he still struggled to properly articulate his answer. 

“I suppose I care about you,” he finally said, his tone even, “I know I can do nothing, for now. But one day, I would like to repay the kindness you have shown us.” 

Luran did not seem to know how to respond for a moment, his expression genuinely surprised. He was not long to recover however, and the smile returned to his face as he replied.

“Very well then. One day.” 

Alstaer nodded and started to turn away, only to stop as he faced the tavern again. His ribs gave a dull ache, and he was reminded of Kas, and all of her poking and prodding, trying to get him to react. If he went back in there now, she would certainly disapprove of his cowardice. And he knew he himself would, as well. 

So, he turned back to Luran and took the two steps closer to him, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder to help him lean up. As he did so, he brushed his lips against Luran’s cheek, lingering for just a moment before he pulled away. Too embarrassed to meet the man’s eye then, he merely ducked his head and began to walk back to the tavern, the heat slowly rising in his face. 

Behind him, Luran stayed still and watched until Alstaer had disappeared back into the tavern. Once alone, he raised his hand to place it on his cheek, as if confused by the gesture. After a few moments, he seemed to somewhat comprehend it however, looking once more at the tavern door. 

Alstaer did not reemerge though, and so Luran turned back to the forest ahead, not long to vanish into the tree line.


	7. The Purple Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter occurs after the party has visited Luran in the city of Ironstone, and are leaving to enter a final confrontation with the demon Laverna.

As the others filed out, Alstaer hung back, hesitating for a moment as he clenched the letter in hand. Like before, he found himself frozen for a moment as he calculated every possible way his plan could go wrong. He could trip over his words again, perhaps even his feet, and end up as the butt of another one of Luran’s jokes. Even worse, he could offend Luran with his affections, and receive nothing but sneering rejection. 

But he reminded himself that he could die. His life could be snuffed out before he had even settled in his own skin. He did not want that. More than anything, Alstaer wanted to confess how he felt, especially if he was not coming back from this fight. And with that motivation, he turned and walked back into the store, finding Luran finally settling in to rest against a wall. 

The flowers had started dropping out of his reddish hair by now, strands of which were beginning to fall about the man’s face. He looked tired, worn out. A fault Alstaer took as his own, feeling his chest grow a little tight. Would knowing Alstaer’s feelings burden Luran even more, perhaps.

He remembered though, as a child, drawing his emotion inside himself, never impressing upon others out of fear his attachment would hurt them. Only ever finding companionship and understanding with Elia and then Shu. And maybe once, Karul.

His hand found the purple stone around his neck. It was time to relinquish it. 

As the decision was made, Alstaer strode forwards, kneeling down in front of Luran and disturbing the man from his light doze, dark yellow eyes flickering open. 

“Ah, yes?” 

Luran’s voice was quieter than usual, a little defeated after their long day and his even longer night. Trying to stabilise Shu, he seemed to have drained himself, the usual glint of his eyes slightly dulled. He needed sleep.  
“I’m sorry, before I go, I have something to give you,” Alstaer murmured, withdrawing the letter and wrapping the knotted tie of his necklace around the paper, “Please, read it when I’ve left.”

Luran cast a glance over the paper, though his eyes soon settled on the stone, returning a questioning gaze in response.

“Someone special gave me that long ago. Said it would protect me. I felt I needed it, until now. So, I wanted to pass it on to someone I found special in return.” 

Alstaer’s voice was quiet, but for once it did not waver as he spoke, nor did he look away. Rather, Luran was the one to lower his gaze, as if somewhat unsure of himself. 

“I can’t take such a thing. I’m not a special person,” he finally spoke, without his usual bravado, turning the stone in hand. 

The purple caught the light of the sun through the far window, casting fragments of colour onto Luran’s chest. Alstaer looked down at it, his lips by now a faint smile as he reached up to place the tips of his fingers over the scar on Luran’s right temple. 

“Yeah well, you are, to me.”

For a moment, Alstaer leant in and pressed their lips together. Though he had stolen himself for this chance, worried over even the thought of being near Luran, he felt no such embarrassment. Rather, it was nice. He wanted to stay like that. 

Just for a few seconds. 

He pulled away soon after, his hand dropping from Luran’s face as he bowed his head. Without wasting any more words then, he turned and left the other with the stone and letter, walking as quickly as possible without running. It was only when he was outside and reunited with Kas that he broke into a somewhat triumphant, bashful smile. 

*

Back in the store, Luran watched the Mesaijan prince disappear into the sunlight, the smile on his own face somewhat bemused. The weight of the paper in his hand drew his attention then, and he unfurled it to begin reading, the stone necklace wrapped around his fingers.

Alstaer's Letter:

Dear Luran,

Thank you, for agreeing to care for Shu. I do not want to leave her again so soon after I found her, but I trust that it is for the best, and I trust your capabilities. 

I hope I will return to her soon enough, but if I am unable to come back, possibly ever, I wanted to write this brief letter.

Shu has been alone her whole life, we only ever had each other. Though I would never leave her willingly, if I am not to return I hope she can find the sanctuary I was searching for. Whether that is in the end Kalkarne, or somewhere beyond my knowledge. 

Aprea is threatened, Kalkarne already taken, and I know my own country is possibly soon to follow. I want to help as I can to slow the threat, even if my life will not prove enough. 

If I live though, please give me the patience to talk with you more. I know we have been rather unequal friends, but I will not forget my gratitude to you, and will repay you however I can. I trust you, and for me that is a new feeling. I suppose I like it.

Alstaer


	8. Return to Ironstone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After three months away, Alstaer and Kas return to Ironstone, planning to meet Luran. However, Alstaer gets a little drunk beforehand.

In the pawn shop, Alstaer’s drunken behaviour only worsened.

Really, the world seemed so much nicer when he was drunk. All soft edges and faint noises, Alstaer thought it was somewhat of a dream. With this much liquor in his system, he was carried somewhere that was not Ironstone, where he did not have to face reality and where nothing could bring him down from this high.

A glint of light caught his eye on a high shelf and he slipped out of Kas’ grip to stray over to it, the warning warble of the storekeeper to ‘Not touch anything’ completely going over his head. A shard of ice was what had drawn him, and the prince (in his terribly basic state) reached out to give it a light prod.

As soon as his fingertip made contact with the ice, a shock of white light raced up and into his hand, then wrist, having spread a faint blue frostbite over his skin. He jerked away and stumbled backwards, looking at his injury in mild shock before bumping into one of the cloaked patrons behind. 

A silence fell as the figure stiffened in response, turning around to get a look at the wobbly form that had struck him. And then;

“Alstaer?” 

Luran pulled down the hood of his cape, looking in disbelief at the sorry creature before him. It was hard to tell between them then, who was the more shocked. 

“Oh…” Alstaer managed to get out, before the reality of the situation hit him and he simply toppled over.   
Luran made a snatch to catch him but just missed, Alstaer hitting the floor as Kas jogged over to check out the commotion.

“What happened to him?” Luran sighed as he reached down to pick Alstaer up, steadying him, “Has he been drinking?”

“Luran!” Kas greeted with a grin, hands on her hips, “Just a little, nothing much.”

As if to woefully refute her statement, Alstaer sniffed before flinging his arms around Luran, holding him fast in a hug. 

“Oh my, er-“ Luran seemed lost for words or action for a moment, though he soon moved to pat Alstaer’s shoulders and return the hug as Kas watched with barely contained mirth. 

“Shall we take him somewhere to rest? My shop, perhaps, or the taver-“

“Yes, yes yes,” Alstaer finally slurred as Luran mentioned his shop, straightening up to better look Luran in the eye. 

“A tavern then? Alright, let’s go,” Luran replied with faint amusement, only to get a rather grumpy tug on his sleeve as Alstaer shook his head.

“Luran. Shop.” 

It was thus that the three of them left the disgruntled storekeeper behind, quite the motley crew as they made their way back through Ironstone. Luran’s shop was the same as ever from the outside, though decidedly less busy, save for a faint light in the back room. 

As they approached, the wizard waved his arm and the front door materialised to allow them all to enter, Alstaer finally seeming to return somewhat to himself as he looked around in faint recognition. Luran’s shop. That meant that Shu was here, and he had not seen her in a month already. Even in his drunken state, he felt a dull pang in his chest.

“A drink then?” Luran offered once they reached his private quarters, Alstaer and Kas taking a seat, “Though perhaps tea would be more suitable for you, Alstaer.”

He swept out briefly to return with the beverages and Alstaer gratefully downed the fruit tea, by now used to the slightly spicy taste of the drinks Luran favoured. 

Kas and Luran talked idly then as he slowly recovered, the dwarf filling the man in on their plans for the next few days and their companions for the moment. Alstaer’s eyes flitted between his swirling tea and Luran’s face, slowly coming back to reality as the drink swept through his system. Though he had precisely had a drink to purge his innate nervousness, in the end he had only made an utter fool of himself. 

The shame of that caused him to shut down for a bit, fidgeting for a good five minutes before asking, “So, how’s Shu?”

Luran paused to look at him in quiet assessment of his level of inebriation: a drunk Alstaer was better off ignored, honestly. Once satisfied that the prince was somewhat lucid again though, Luran stood and drew a circle in midair, opening up onto what appeared to be the floor below. 

Shu was…running. Suspended off the floor, the great cat was sprinting as if on an invisible track, four versions of Luran’s assistant Timmons sat around her in a quadrangle. 

“She’s doing well. I thought the curse might take a full two years to remove, but in the end, it may be far quicker, perhaps only a year,” Luran admitted, Alstaer moving over to stand before the portal. 

Compared to the sickly and motionless Shu of before, the sight was welcome to Alstaer, and out of instinct he reached out to her, fingers outstretched.

Only, as he did so, the circle closed and his fingers instead brushed Luran, the man having grabbed his wrist to stop him. 

“It’s just a vision, Alstaer. If you want to see her, you can go downstairs.”

Something in Luran’s voice in that moment drew Alstaer’s attention, and when he looked up he was surprised to see a faint redness spreading over Luran’s cheeks. The fact that Luran was actually blushing was not what he had been prepared for, the very thought causing his own face to heat up as he hastily pulled his hand away.  
“If you don’t mind, I’ll just see her quickly…”

Luran let him go, Alstaer a bit out of sorts as he climbed down the stairs. As soon as he saw Shu though, the bashfulness was replaced with a quiet joy. She looked well, really, though she did not notice him as he came to stand directly in front of her. From the slight glaze in her eyes, and the way she occasionally dodged invisible obstacles, it seemed as though she was in a-

“Simulation,” one of the Timmonses piped up as Kas entered the room after Alstaer, drawing the attention of the little workers, “She thinks she’s running in a wide, open savannah right now.” 

As he spoke, Shu took a slow-motion tumble and had to shake herself off, the Timmons who had spoken turning back to her as she did so. 

“My apologies, I’ll have to get back to my work,” he bobbed his little head before focusing on the suspended cat once more.

For a moment, his face blurred, and Alstaer thought he saw Luran’s face superimposed, flickering before it vanished altogether. 

“She looks good,” Kas finally spoke up from beside Alstaer, jabbing her elbow into his side “So, you’re gonna stay here then? No need to bunk with Tyresse tonight?” 

When Alstaer looked down at her, she was grinning, far too broadly to be innocent. 

“Uh, yeah. I’ll stay,” he simply mumbled as his willpower failed and his face turned bright red again, “Shut up.”

“Ohh, good luck, my boy,” Kas cackled, her expression by now positively impish. 

It was enough to earn her a mock hit in the stomach from Alstaer, though her exasperated expression was enough to tell the prince he might as well have just flicked her: his weak strike was pitiful. 

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning! See ya ‘round too, Luran!” she yelled upstairs, waving over her shoulder as she took her leave. 

Alstaer stayed put for a few minutes, content to watch Shu even if she could not see him. She looked beautiful, radiant almost in the faint sunlight filtering in through the window. He had never seen her look so peaceful before. Back in the Mesaje, they had been survivors, never taking time to play or even relax in the harsh centre of the ice desert. Even when asleep, she had curled her body around him in the snow sleet, growling throughout the night in case of intruders. Perhaps, once she was cured, he would see her truly happy.

He left the scene after a moment more of watching Shu, climbing back up the step-ladder that led to Luran’s private room. As he emerged at the top though, he noticed the man standing by the dresser, staring into the crystal ball atop it. There was a small chip in the object, though Alstaer could not tell if it had been broken by some magical means or simply dropped. Or thrown, who could say.

Pacing around in the reflection of the crystal, Alstaer could see a man, his face lined with age and his greying hair reflecting a metallic, reddish tint. 

“Who’s that?” he asked as he picked himself fully off the ladder, heading over to stand just a little back from Luran. He had seen the wizard use the crystal ball occasionally, but always reflecting the same scene: the same man, in the same office. It was just the first time he had worked up the courage to ask. 

“Ah? Oh, it’s my father. I like to…keep an eye on things, back home,” Luran murmured, turning back to look at Alstaer, “I was actually thinking of perhaps returning there soon. It’s been a while, and I have some unfinished business to take care of.” 

“To Kalkarne?” Alstaer asked as Luran moved past him to sit at the low table, the man nodding in answer. 

“I haven’t seen my family in many years,” Luran mused aloud, though Alstaer remembered something as he said so.

“Back in Eldralyth, in the dungeons of the castle…that man we saw, was that your brother?”

Luran went silent for a moment, though the slightly wry smile he wore was enough proof that Alstaer had caught him. 

“Yes. We aren’t on the best of terms though,” Luran admitted as Alstaer sat beside him, “I made a decision a while ago, a risky one, and he disagreed with me. And he’s devoted his entire life to undoing that decision.”

Alstaer resisted to ask what exactly that decision was, as for the moment he simply wanted to take that faraway look out of Luran’s eyes. He was not used to seeing the self-assured Luran seeming almost lost, confused even.

“I’ll make some tea, wait there,” he ordered after a beat of silence, jumping up and brushing himself off, “My turn to serve you.”


	9. The Spark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Immediate continuation of previous chapter.

Alstaer took his time in the kitchen; making sure the tea was properly brewed and thinking over what Luran had just told him. If Luran had never exactly seemed to lie to Alstaer, he had never been forthcoming about his past. And certainly not about his family, though Alstaer had to admit he was not exactly prone to overshare about such things himself.

Once the tea had turned a deep amber, he removed the leaves and placed two cups and the pot on a tray, steadying himself before he climbed back upstairs. Luran was still waiting by the table, a bit more relaxed now it seemed as he leant back on his arms, inclining his head as Alstaer walked over.

“Mango tea? Thanks,” he nodded as Alstaer set the tray down, picking up one of the cups.

“You have interesting taste,” Alstaer laughed under his breath as he knelt down into one of the cushions. 

“Well, it’s popular in Kalkarne,” Luran said with a half-smile before taking a sip of his tea.

Feeling the mood had lightened considerably, Alstaer relaxed his posture and slid his legs to the side a little. Luran’s family was still on his mind, but he could not bring himself to interrogate: the fact that Luran was willing to talk about this at all was already a bit of a shock to Alstaer’s system. 

Luckily, Luran interjected before Alstaer could bring the subject back to his family, his eyes thoughtful as he asked, “Do you remember, the diamonds I gave you? Before we faced the dragon. Raphael returned most of them to me but, there was one missing.”

Completely taken off guard, Alstaer had to think back all those months ago, recollecting the diamonds Luran had given him to distribute before the battle. As far as he knew, they were all accounted for. 

“I don’t know why one would be missing, I’m sorry.”

Luran simply took another sip of his tea in response, nodding as if to himself. Alstaer could tell Luran’s mind was not solely on the missing diamond though. So, after a taste of the mango tea (and nearly burning his tongue), he set the cup aside and looked back at Luran, facing him properly this time.

“You said you were thinking of travelling back to Kalkarne, but is that a, ah, permanent thing?”

It was a bold question, considering the implications. Luran had said they would figure out things between them, but if Luran was to return to Kalkarne to settle, Alstaer needed to consider more than just their relationship.

“It’s not. Why do you ask?” Luran asked after a moment’s pause. 

“Ah, I mean, that’s good, I guess. I mean, if you were to leave Aprea, I’d have to consider a few things,” Alstaer said, shifting his hands in his lap. 

“Like what?” 

Luran spoke patiently with Alstaer, knowing by now that the prince’s confidence was prone to fluctuate. Rather than making a joke out of him, he genuinely seemed to want to hear what Alstaer had to say.

“I guess the future? And what I’m going to do, if anything’s changed-“

“So, has the way you feel changed? From what you told me back then?”

“No, I-…I just have to think about some things, that’s all. When I told you those things back then, I thought I was going to die, and now things are different-”

Luran pulled away at those words, his expression closing off as his body stiffened. He seemed almost hurt, not wanting to hear the rest of that sentence. 

It was what it took for Alstaer to react, reaching out and grabbing Luran’s hand to hold it in both of his.

“The way I feel about you hasn’t changed. I want to be with you, I know that much. I just need to consider, my position, my country, and what I can do to stay with you.”

Luran did not say anything for a moment, but he softened considerably, Alstaer able to feel the man’s hand relax in his. There was still that oddly confused, almost abashed expression on Luran’s face, but he looked relieved. 

“You know, like I said, there are things I have to do, and you as well, before either of us can consider that future,” he sighed, though Alstaer knew this was coming.

“I know. I’m not saying now. But I’m saying someday. That’s what I want.”

It was exceedingly rare for Alstaer to be so upfront, especially in conversation. It took Luran a whole second to process before he answered with a smile.

“Alright, that’s all I need to hear then, for now.”

Seeing Luran happy was enough to relieve Alstaer, and he turned Luran’s hand over then to press his fingers into the man’s palm, shutting his eyes. From the centre of Luran’s hand, a series of red petals sprung up, spreading out from a small blossom until they formed a large flower. Luran stayed quiet for a moment, his expression somewhat touched, before he got up and walked over to his bedside drawer.

“I might have something for you too, actually,” he said, his back to Alstaer as he pulled out a small vial.   
Waving his hand, a gold, faintly sparkling substance appeared within the glass, nestled inside like a tiny network of stars. It did not seem hot though, rather warm, burning softly inside the vial. Luran slid a leather cord into a fastening then to form a necklace, bringing it back over to present to Alstaer.

“I think we have a spark,” he murmured, and Alstaer saw that same redness on his cheeks as before. 

There was a moment of quiet between them, as Alstaer ducked to contain his reaction to the words. He was laughing, a little. He was not laughing at Luran though, and rather, the laugh turned into a genuine smile, Alstaer’s face far warmer than usual. 

He reached up and took the necklace, threading the leather around his neck. The vial glowed again like a small beacon before settling down, Alstaer placing his hand over it to hold it against his chest.

“Thank you.”


	10. Cantrip Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mild PG-13 content warning. 
> 
> Alstaer decides to cook Luran dinner whilst staying with him in Ironstone.

If there was one skill Alstaer had never managed to pick up from the books, it was cooking. He had never even had a vague interest in the culinary arts before leaving the Mesaje, and it showed as he wandered through the market place, many of the stalls shutting down for the day as noon settled in.

After a glance at the paper he had hastily scribbled a mishmash recipe on, he made a mental checklist of all the necessary ingredients and plunged into the gaggle of last minute shoppers. The smell of the fish monger lured him first, and he stood over the rows of dead-eyed sea creatures, chewing his lip as he searched for barnacles. Since meeting Luran, he had noticed the man’s fondness for them, a little research clearing up that they were a delicacy in Kalkarne.

So, inspired, he bought a bag of the closest thing the monger had to Kalkarne barnacles before continuing on his mad race around the markets, scooping up pomegranates along the way and clearing most of the spices from the shelves of several merchants.

The task that lay ahead however was far more daunting, and after Alstaer had lugged the ingredients back to Luran’s shop, he began to realise the immensity of the job. He had never even peeled a potato before, and here he was about to shuck and fry up some barnacles.

“It’s fine. How hard can it be,” he murmured to himself, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and setting to work.

It was, in fact, quite hard. The barnacles were slippery and difficult to remove prettily, so Alstaer spent a good hour shucking them all, making sure they were well cleaned before finally setting them in the pan. The spice ratio was the next difficulty, and after inhaling a decent amount of hot red powder (and sneezing for at least ten minutes), Alstaer discovered he was not very tolerant to it.

Still, he worked on a trial and error basis, adding and removing spices from a couple of test barnacles before finally settling on a combination he at least thought tasted decent. Hopefully Luran would appreciate it, he thought as he popped out the individual pomegranate seeds as a final addition.

Just as he was putting out the fire, the bell on the front door of the shop rang out and Alstaer stood bolt upright. He was not done: if it was not perfect, he did not want Luran to see.

In a mad scramble, he tried to cover his work, inadvertently making enough noise to draw attention as he clanged pots and pans in his rush. Footsteps sounded right outside as Alstaer shoved a lid on top of the steaming barnacles, and Luran’s head popped around the corner a moment later.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked quizzically, looking at the flustered Alstaer and then trying to peer at the mess behind, “You’re making dinner?”

“You-! Shoo. For ten minutes. Just, please,” Alstaer waved his hands, Luran’s eyes widening in surprise before he obliged and withdrew around the corner.

With a sigh of relief then, Alstaer took his time to plate up the food, at first serving the barnacles onto two plates before he heard Timmons’ voice upstairs and begrudgingly split it into three.

When he brought the plates upstairs, Timmons and Luran were sitting at the low table, Alstaer setting the food down and averting his eyes as Luran recognised the dish.

“Barnacles?” he surmised with a raised brow, Alstaer having taken a seat across from him.

“Ah, yes, just thought…it would be nice to make you dinner, the least I could do,” the prince finally spoke up, meeting Luran’s gaze, “I hope it’s okay, just tell me if it’s terrible.”

“Well, it’s a little burnt, I must be honest,” Luran’s mouth twitched into a smile as he pulled the plate closer to inspect.

“Thanks for being truthful.”

“As always, brutal,” Luran hummed, though after taking one of the barnacles on the end of his fork and having a taste, his eyes widened in surprise.

“It’s actually not bad.”

*

In the end, Luran finished his entire plate, as did Timmons, and Alstaer felt a small glow of pride in his chest at the apparent success. He had to admit however, he had had a bit of an agenda when cooking dinner for Luran, and now Timmons was making things a little awkward for him.

Though they had been casually talking over the meal, Alstaer cleared his throat then and looked directly at Luran, stealing himself for a moment before he asked, “So, ah, are you doing anything…later?”

His voice did not come out sounding at all as confident as he had wanted, but it was enough to get Luran’s attention, a beat of silence passing between them before the man replied, “No, I had no plans.”

“Oh. That’s good. Then, would you want…to spend…some time…with me…”

Alstaer’s voice shrunk down to barely a whisper at the end, but his gaze did not falter and Luran seemed to get the gist of what Alstaer was suggesting very quickly.

“Oh, I mean, _yes_ , I have time. Did you want to, ah, ‘practice our cantrips’? I could give you a lesson.”

Luran was the one to clear his throat now, Alstaer already feeling his face growing hot as he flushed from his hairline to his neck. This was a brand-new kind of embarrassment, really.

Before he could answer though, Timmons chimed “Could I join?”, cheerily looking between the two of them with very little apparent understanding.

“NO, no, no, no,” they interjected at the exact same time, Luran standing up quickly to clear the plates, “This is a private lesson, sorry Timmons. I’ll clean up then, Alstaer?”

“Ah, sure, I will go wait, upstairs,” Alstaer affirmed as he slid out of his chair, stumbling over to the stairs that led up to Luran’s bedroom.

Though he was often nervous around Luran as a rule, it was nothing compared to that moment as Alstaer paced around the room, utterly out of sorts. He had kissed Luran, held his hand, but beyond that he had nothing to go on. Only Kas and her explicit descriptions that he had majorly blocked out of his memory.  
There was a good minute where Alstaer just sat on the floor, head in his hands as he tried to conjure up any knowledge, any strategy of approach. Nothing. This was not something he could carefully plan out. As always with Luran, his mind was wonderfully blank.

And he decided he did not care.

As Luran cleaned up the dinner downstairs, Alstaer took a few minutes to briefly bathe and dunk his face in cold water. Wrapped up in a towel then, he went to sit beside Luran’s bed, tapping a nervous rhythm on his legs.

When Luran’s head appeared at the top of the stairs then, he was ready. As the man looked up, Alstaer reached down and took a handful of the front of his shirt. And without any hesitation, he pulled Luran up to him and pressed their lips together in a kiss.


	11. Thinking Loudly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place immediately after the spicy events of 'Cantrip Practice'

It was difficult to be the one awake in a bed of two. 

For an hour now, Alstaer had lain on his back, eyes closed, focused on keeping his breathing slow and steady in an attempt to fool Luran he was asleep. He knew the other was long since lost to dreams, splayed out comfortably with the occasional snore escaping. Alstaer couldn’t join him, though. 

He rolled over, half-opening his eyes to look at the one beside him. Luran’s head had slipped partially off the bolster pillow, his hair arranged over the silk and sticking out in jerky angles about his temples. Even in the faintest light from the street outside, it refracted red like copper thread. 

Luran rolled his shoulders and Alstaer shut his eyes and shifted his body lower in the bed, hiding everything below his chin under the sheets. It wasn’t really his fault that he couldn’t sleep, he told himself, unconsciously pulling his knees up to his chest. He’d never shared a bed like this with anyone before, never so close, and even the sound of Luran’s soft breathing seemed to break the night around them. Alstaer had always imposed an unspoken barrier around himself, and even after spending the night with Luran he was struggling to keep it up, clutching at the walls. 

As he pulled the bedsheets even higher up his face, Luran properly lay on his side, Alstaer now face-to-face with him. In an instant, he scrambled back into the pillows and pressed himself flat against the headboard, drawing his hand to his chest to keep the modesty the sheets offered him. His hand formed around a lump there though, and Alstaer pulled the sheet back to find his skin illuminated by the necklace that now hung between the points of his clavicle. Luran had given it to him that evening, the little glass bottle filled with a swirling constellation of sparks. 

“What are you doing?”

A sleepy voice drew Alstaer’s attention back to the pillow, Luran having opened one eye to look at him. Alstaer hadn’t been as quiet as he’d thought. 

“Ah, I was just…I was thinking.”

“You think veeery loudly,” Luran’s laugh turned into a yawn, and Alstaer immediately dropped back into the bed to avoid disturbing the other further, folding his arms across his chest. 

Luran didn’t return to sleep immediately though, instead reaching out to place his hand atop Alstaer’s head.

“If you’re having trouble sleeping, I might be able to help. I’ve got a few magic tricks after all,” Luran winked, tapping his fingers over Alstaer’s forehead in a light pattering, before tracing one down between his eyebrows and to the tip of his nose, which he prodded with a grin. “Feel any sleepier?”

No, and you’re an idiot, Alstaer thought fondly, tilting his head to the side as Luran waited, apparently very pleased with his little joke. Eventually, he reached and placed his hand over Luran’s eyes, leaning up and pressing his lips to the man’s chin. 

“Keep your eyes shut,” he ordered quietly as he removed his hand, making sure Luran had obliged and then moving his fingers into the red hair. 

It was warm, soft, and as he disturbed the strands, Luran’s scent became heavier in the air, draping Alstaer, the sheets, the pillow. He pushed himself a little closer, sliding his hand to cup Luran’s face, brushing his thumb over the light pulse under the steep of Luran’s jaw. Compared to the softer sounds earlier, Luran’s breathing seemed to become forcibly measured, as if he were focusing on not showing any reaction. The expression of careful control on Luran’s face was already a deviation though, and Alstaer paused, wondering if he was going too far. But no, considering their night together and this shift in relationship, this wasn’t too far anymore. Perhaps it would simply take some getting used to. And not for Alstaer alone. 

He settled closer to Luran, on the same pillow now, dropping his hand from the other’s neck to his shoulder, down his arm and to his hand. There was nothing presumptuous or lascivious in his touch, and Alstaer simply held Luran’s hand after a moment, cool skin warming at the contact. When Luran finally opened his eyes, Alstaer had shut his own and was resting, keeping Luran’s hand loosely grasped in his own.


	12. Something Else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> switch ヽ( •_)ᕗ

The news of Karul’s criminal status was hard on them both, Alstaer could tell. Luran had taken a seat on the opposite side of the bed, near the window, gaze fixed outside as he unlaced and tugged off his boots. It wasn’t as if Luran was angry, but Alstaer could almost hear the man’s mind at work, processing the truth about Karul and likely reflecting on the fact that Sarazur would be joining them in their Kalkarne venture. Though Alstaer wanted to know more about what exactly strained Luran and Sarazur’s relationship so, he felt now was not the right moment to discuss. Luran’s tension was palpable in the set of his shoulders alone.

“Did you enjoy the party?” Alstaer finally asked, changing behind Luran’s back into pyjamas, buttoning up his loose cotton shirt, “I mean, up until the end, it seemed like you were having a good time?”

Luran laughed and leant back on one arm, glancing over his shoulder at Alstaer with a wry smile.

“You don’t need to be concerned about that, Alstaer. I had a great time. And seeing the Krism Kollective again makes me appreciate your new friends a little more, aha.”

Luran was playing off his worries as nothing, but Alstaer was far from assuaged of his concern. The usual conviction with which Luran laughed and joked wasn’t there, and he had drawn in on himself slightly, his expression almost closed. He was thinking, too much.

“I’m glad then,” Alstaer said, sitting down on the bed before turning to properly face Luran, tilting his head to the side, “To be honest, I was afraid it wouldn’t be up to your standard. Given the parties you’re apparently used to.”

He trailed off in remembering the courtesan costume before shaking his head and leaning forwards, crawling until he could wrap his arms around Luran’s shoulders. There was no one else in the room with them after all, and Alstaer’s affection became more fluid.

“It was certainly different from my usual affair,” Luran hummed, raising a hand to pat Alstaer’s arm, hovering there before he slid his fingers up to play with the sleeve of the pyjama, “Ahh, you wear a lot of layers to bed. I think I preferred what you had on earlier.”

Luran’s tone changed, his smile slicker, and Alstaer rolled his eyes and slumped against the other’s shoulder, by now draped over his back.

“You’re unsubtle.”

“You like it.”

“Hm.”

Luran was still smiling, playful now as he rolled Alstaer’s sleeves up and kissed the back of his hands, pulling his arms tighter around his body to almost swathe himself. Alstaer had noticed Luran enjoyed the affection now, whereas before he had smoothly rejected most advances. It was hard to remember the colder version of this man who was now so happy with Alstaer’s arms around him, even nestling back into the embrace. Though, Alstaer knew he himself had perhaps been even colder. Maybe still was.

“Hey,” he bumped his head against Luran’s until he turned, allowing Alstaer to lean in and press their lips together.

Luran inhaled briefly in surprise at Alstaer’s rare initiative but soon shut his eyes and leant into the kiss, his hand finding Alstaer’s hair and brushing it back, starting to unwind the braids beneath his fingers. That hand was quick to find Alstaer’s shirt collar, tracing the line past his clavicle to the first few buttons where he began to pick them open deftly. As it dipped below his chest however and Luran started to push him back into the duvet, Alstaer raised a hand and brought it to Luran’s cheek, patting it to get his attention.

“Wait, a second, hold on.”

Luran stopped immediately, comically frozen over Alstaer as he waited for the go-ahead signal.

Alstaer did not give it to him though, instead sitting back up and raising his hands again cautiously to Luran’s shoulders. Luran kept still and watched in bemusement as Alstaer pushed him up and then, in a single movement, flipped them over. The man’s wide eyes then made Alstaer laugh, the sound a little disbelieving as he seemed shocked at his own courage.

“I…I want to try something else. With you. Tonight,” he started, Luran raising a brow and looking Alstaer up and down.

“We already tried this though,” he finally replied bluntly, taking ahold of Alstaer’s hips and beginning to smile again before he noticed Alstaer shaking his head and wriggling free.

“You need to be a little clearer, especially with this kinda thing,” he pointed out then as he let go and folded his arms behind his head, “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. So, tell me what you want.”

Alstaer stared down at Luran lying so comfortably on the bed, so unbothered. He wanted to change that expression on the other’s face, surprise him enough that Luran wouldn’t be able to dwell on all that had happened that day. Leave room for nothing in Luran’s mind but him.

He shifted forwards again, taking Luran’s wrists and pulling them up and above his head, holding them there as his free hand undid Luran’s jacket and shirt, spilling them open. Alstaer counted himself a fast learner and he had Luran to thank for most of his education, but beyond that he moved as he wanted, kissing Luran’s sternum, up to his neck and finally his lips.

The look on Luran’s face was priceless when Alstaer pulled away, pressing their foreheads together as he simply said, “I want you, like this.”

It took a few moments for Luran to get it. And, as he mulled it over, the colour in his body rose up and to his face and ears, the usually composed man glowing as he understood what Alstaer was angling at.

“ _Ah_ ,” he realised, blinking once as if to wake himself up before meeting Alstaer’s eyes again, “Y’know, I never really, hm, well, this is a surprise, ahh-”

He stopped, going quiet as he looked up at Alstaer. Alstaer who was waiting, watching Luran to hear everything he had to say and who wanted, very much, to make him happy. Like Luran before, not moving until he was told it was okay.

“Ah, fuck,” Luran laughed under his breath, curling his fingers so his hand could hold Alstaer’s, “Let’s do it.”


	13. The Worst Thing I Ever Said

“This locket is…truly interesting.”

As Alstaer looked up into Luran’s eyes, he knew what was happening. He felt his body being lurched forwards, as if by some magnetic pull, subsumed into the locket in an instant.

Luran had imprisoned him.

Outside, he could hear the faint noises of conversation, Luran’s voice, Kas and Neph, see a blurred vision of them ahead of him. The interior of the locket was dark, rounded, with a large window-like screen on the far end of the space. He walked over to it, stopping to look out and to the scene he’d left behind.

“I’m quite weak, but I think I want to hold onto Brian,” Luran’s voice reached him, followed by a hand partially covering the screen of the locket, Luran patting it against his chest, “So, stick together, yes? Great. I’m going to drink, heavily.”

Alstaer frowned at Luran’s words and stepped closer to the screen, pressing his hands up and against it. No give. He really was trapped here.

“Let’s all sleep now, and we can get Brian out tomorrow morning and have words with him.”

Kas speaking now, Alstaer bristling as she suggested leaving him locked up all night.

“-I don’t want Brian to stay in the locket, as I’m sure you don’t either…”

Her voice was full of concern, pity almost. Alstaer sighed and sunk to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. He’d disappointed Kas, hurt Luran. Likely made them all the more stressed and on-edge, all because of him. It looked like he would be relegated to a night of self-reflective isolation. 

“Yes, um, I…here’s the thing. I love him-oh fuck.”

Luran’s voice.

Alstaer’s whole body went rigid at the words, his eyes strained open so wide they stung. Love? Luran loved him? Even the thought made his heart start pumping uncomfortably hard in his throat, throttling him with the force. Had he heard wrong?

Neph’s voice pulled him out of his state of shock, urging Luran to let him out, and Alstaer shakily got to his feet to listen. He wanted to get out. He couldn’t stay in here alone, with those words in his head.

Luran sounded almost shameful as Neph chastised him for his actions, his hand coming to hold the locket, darkening Alstaer’s view again. Neph’s words were sensitive though, empathetic, and Alstaer felt his own guilt compound at them. 

“It’s never too late to apologise, and that goes for the both of you.”

Neph was right. Of course, Alstaer was not sure he could swallow his upset at the imprisonment all at once, but he knew she was right.

“Okay, let me have a moment to ready myself,” Luran sighed, fumbling the locket before flicking his finger over the latch.

And, just like that, Alstaer popped back out. 

Everything seemed far more vivid now, more real and raw, as if he’d been watching everything prior through a watercolour veil. He sat on the floor in shock, looking around at the wary faces in the room before his eyes settled on Luran. Luran, looking just as stunned as Alstaer, raising his hands in a half-greeting, half-defensive stance. Alstaer was not about to lash out at Luran though, and the more he looked at the man, the redder he became. 

'I love him.'

The words hit him again and he choked, immediately turning and crawling away to where Shu was waiting just behind the group, intent on making his escape. The conflict of emotions right now, and the sheer energy it took to process that statement, he couldn’t handle it. 

“Ah, so, wait!” Luran called after him as he stumbled forwards in the circle, “…Remember how I brought Shu back to life?”

Total silence. 

Neph was looking incredulously at Luran, who simply attempted a sheepish smile as he continued to look at Alstaer, though his face soon dissolved into an almost desperate expression.

“Alstaer,” he tried again, licking his lip and looking down for a moment as if to gather his thoughts, “I…wanted to do this, to protect you. Because, I’ve never been able to protect you before. And you always protect me…”

He stumbled a little over his words, Neph turning her disbelieving expression on Alstaer now as if to say, ‘You picked him?’

Alstaer wasn’t looking though, having not taken his eyes off of Luran. Silent, but not angry.

Luran took a deep breath before continuing, “I am…sorry. I’d do it again though, because, I don’t want you to die. And you hating me is better than you being dead, I think. Um, so, I will stay if you want me to stay, I’ll go if you ask me to leave. But, know that the reason I did this was…not out of…anything other than that I…”

Luran seemed to be struggling greatly with himself, looking left, right, before back at Alstaer.

“-love you. Oh, gosh. Saying that out loud is like the worst thing I’ve ever said, but it’s true, after all this time, I can’t really not-”

He went on in a flustered tirade, but Alstaer wasn’t listening anymore. His face was no longer red, but rather an odd, purplish shade, and he’d shrunk into himself like a tortoise. 

Luran finally stopped and Alstaer got a chance to nod, almost to himself, before scuttling back and burying his face in Shu’s fur. In that moment, he couldn’t even get a word out. 

Silence fell over the room again and eyes periodically flicked between Alstaer and Luran for a solid thirty seconds. It was Sarazur who finally broke it, turning to Alstaer, and then Luran, before saying;

“What an idiot.”


	14. Gaemon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haven't written anything for these two in a while but I think this excerpt from last game can count as some Luran/Alstaer content haha
> 
> This occurs way into season two, after many trials and tribulations not recorded in this fic unfortunately.  
> In summary: the new party has arrived in Kalkarne, and Alstaer has been dismissed by the deposed empress of the country due to his family not sending aid. He goes for an emo walk, Luran follows to make sure he's not growing too many mushrooms in the corner.

“Please leave.”

The empress, Neph’s mother, looked at him with such disdain in that moment that Alstaer felt like the smallest person in the room. Unwelcome, unwanted, told to leave her presence on the basis his parents had denied the Karadaman-Yazar aid some ten years prior. Of course, he felt a moment of disbelieving anger at his mother and father, for having not extended help to Kalkarne when the country needed them most.

But it was replaced almost immediately by a sense of hurt, a welling of both self-loathing and anger. ‘Gaemon’. It was like a brand. And this woman looked at him as a mere representation of that family, an extension of his father and his reign. It was what Alstaer had fled from his entire adult life. Casting aside the name ‘Alstaer Gaemon’, shutting down anyone who even tried to grant him the appellation of ‘your majesty’ or ‘your highness’.

And then anger, because he did not deserve it. Alstaer was usually one to accept any insult directed at him, and likely believe it more than true. But to be asked to leave and treated as an enemy, when he had almost died for Neph, and would do so again… He was not his name. As he looked at the empress then, there was something akin to disappointment in his eyes.  
Out of respect though, he bowed his head and turned to leave, walking quickly, the sound of his heels hitting the stone floor slightly muted by the sand. He continued on, aimless and following no path, only seeking to put as much distance between himself and Lorella Karadaman-Yazar as possible. Eventually he came to a branching in the corridors, one sectioned off with a door, the other spiraling down into stairs and darkness.

The darkness drew him, and he descended the stairs, decided to continue to walk until he was forced to stop. The stairs turned and burrowed into the shadow below the palace, though his eyes adjusted slowly, allowing him to see a fairly cavernous tunnel beyond. He stepped down onto sandy ground, the floor by now apparently subsumed into the desert. It was as if the sand was eating up and through the structure, able to infiltrate in the less occupied areas.

A little further, he traced his hand along the wall, absent-minded as he continued down the tunnel. Down until he stopped at the foot of what seemed to be a lowly raised dais, a large font coming into view. He stood still, finally, wavering as he looked down and into the swirling surface of the basin. Only, it wasn’t water within. He could see beyond the surface as clearly as a window, barely a sheen between him and the vision beneath. It was not the desert he was looking onto, however. Rather, it was a sky of sorts, though not lit in the same manner the sky on the material plane would be. Colours moved across it, and occasionally little sparks of movement, like fish flitting in a pond. A closer look and he could make out wings on the sparks, tiny pixies darting across the sky. It was not of this world, but it was beautiful, entrancing.

As he leant in, his ears pricked subconsciously and he heard the sound of footsteps at the end of the tunnel, followed by a voice. He straightened up, listening.

“Oh, ohh, this is not ideal, um-OW!”

There was a slip and Alstaer turned to see someone fall down the last few stairs and to the ground, having obviously been trying to sneak down unobserved. He knew the voice however, and rather than being on guard, he simply waited as a slightly guilty Luran picked himself up and brushed himself off.

“You were following me?” Alstaer sighed then as Luran approached, the dim light of the font casting his face into view.

He didn’t look particularly upset at Luran’s pursuance, though his eyes were still downcast, marked by the empress’ words.

“I wanted to check if you were okay, to be honest,” Luran admitted, coming to a stop in front of Alstaer.

“…I’m okay,” Alstaer replied after a moment’s pause, looking up at Luran, “It is just, I didn’t realise my parents had denied aid to Kalkarne. It’s not something I wanted to hear, but it doesn’t surprise me.”

He spoke slowly, considering his words, as if trying to keep the emotion out of them. After all, he remembered Sarazur’s sentiment back at the temple lodgings.

_This isn’t about you._

Alstaer was taking the insult personally, as his logical brain tried to remind him that the problem was far bigger than just him. Bigger even than their two families, it was a rift between countries. And yet he couldn’t help but blame himself, and his parents.

Luran half-smiled as he took in Alstaer’s expression, before saying, “You don’t think well of them. At least, that’s the impression I get, every now and again.”

“I don’t think I try and hide it,” Alstaer admitted, a flicker of wryness in his voice, “But I…I love my mother. I don’t know her very well. And I, I despise my father, and this just, I guess, proves my point.”

“I didn’t like my parents for a while. Then I realised that they meant a lot more to me than I thought they did,” Luran said thoughtfully then, Alstaer going silent as Luran spoke of his family.

He wanted to know, of course. And to hear Luran may have had similar troubles to his own, it was oddly assuring to Alstaer. Because Luran, he was someone Alstaer could never see being beaten down or silenced, even by his parents. He was a confident, well-spoken person. Someone Alstaer respected. Whatever words he could offer, Alstaer would listen.

“I tried to reach out to them, to fix our relationship. It did me a lot of good,” Luran continued, “That being said, some parents are dipshits, and I’m not going to pretend like I know some grand, deep knowledge of how to fix your relationship with them, if you even want to fix it. I will say one thing though. And know this is coming from a man of Kalkarne, most of his life. They may have had their reasons.”

It was not what Alstaer had been expecting. And yet, it was honest, without partisan. What Alstaer needed to hear. He had been so caught up in the ire of the empress, that he hadn’t given his parents even one portion of a benefit of the doubt.

“I guess I don’t know the situation well enough…” he finally conceded, realising that really, he could not rightfully have a proper stance on this event.

“Are you involved, with the politics in the Mesaje at all?” Luran asked then, causing Alstaer to tense slightly, “Because you didn’t ask about it, when we were there last time, and I was just wondering.”

Alstaer felt a little put on the spot then, his lips parting before he closed them. No, he was not. He had left the ice palace when he was not yet of age to be brought into the council, and since then he had been no better than a runaway child, skirting the ice desert before leaving for Aprea without looking back. Really, he had had no chance to be anything more than a silent figurehead. And during their brief visit, perhaps he hadn’t realised that he wasn’t a powerless child anymore. He wasn’t used to asking questions, not trying to force himself into any political discussion. In reality, he had never truly acted as a monarch, which was why he so often rejected his ‘prince’ title in the first place.

“Well…I wasn’t told very much, when I was there,” he started, reflecting on his childhood in the palace, “and I don’t really know if my father trusts me enough to share that information. He never asked me for my opinion-”

“Was the expectation to wait to be asked, or to be forthright?” Luran interrupted then, again forcing Alstaer to reflect on just how useless he’d been as a ‘Gaemon’ in the first place.

Finally, he responded, “I think I asked a lot of questions when I was younger, and then eventually I learnt that you don’t get answers.”

“Perhaps you were asking the wrong questions,” Luran said, causing Alstaer to bite his lip.

This was a difficult discussion for him.

“Potentially. I was probably more self-involved than I would’ve liked to have been as a child. And then, this time, I didn’t speak to him one-on-one at all.”

“I can understand why,” Luran nodded, his tone softening slightly, “I’m sorry if me being there was a bit of a hindrance to you.”

That sentiment caused Alstaer’s eyes to widen as he shook his head, taken off-guard by Luran thinking such a thing. Not once had Alstaer ever thought of Luran as a hindrance. In fact, it had always been the opposite.

“It wasn’t,” he responded almost immediately, taking a step forward and holding his chin up to look at Luran, “Actually, being able to talk to them, being able to talk with my mother was something I probably couldn’t have done by myself, or at least I couldn’t have done before.”

Luran nodded, and Alstaer hoped he understood. After all, without Luran, he sincerely wondered where they would be now, him especially. He had meant what he said when he’d told Luran he was strong. Perhaps not in the way that Bluey, or even Kas was, with their sheer force or talent with a weapon. In a way that Alstaer thought extended beyond battle and to the whole group. Luran had a talent for reading the mood, and knowing when to lighten it. But, like now, he also knew what to say, even if the listener didn’t really want to hear it. Luran was strong enough to say things that others would find hard to express, himself included. And Alstaer knew, he was right in urging him to take more responsibility. Not just as a person, but as the heir to the Mesaje, and his family name. He would never begrudge Luran for telling him the truth, and only ever appreciate having the other by his side.


	15. INTERLUDE: Lustaer Playlist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a list of songs that I often have on when writing these chapters, got that good mood music. 
> 
> I've pulled out small portions of the lyrics from each song to kinda get the vibe of why I picked them, I always have to have playlists for my characters/ships so sharing the credit with all of these songs. 
> 
> (Some people reckon ship playlists are cringe but I am cringe YEEE bring me that good romance)

**What If** by SafetySuit

_'What if what I want makes you sad at me? And is it all my fault or can I fix it, please? Cause you know that I'm always all for you.'_

**Permanent** by Kygo, JHart

_'I'd drive the streets when you told me your secrets. We made mistakes, but we both didn't mean it. And we held the world, we were turning it, for a moment there, it was permanent.'_

**Grade 8** by Ed Sheeran _  
_

_'My mind is a warrior, my heart is a foreigner, my eyes are the colour of red like the sunset._  
_I'll never keep it bottled up, left to the hands of the coroner._  
_Be a true heart not a follower. We're not done yet.'_

 

 **Smooth** by Santana, Rob Thomas

_'It's just like the ocean under the moon, it's the same as the emotion that I get from you. Give me your heart, make it real or else forget about it.'_

 

 **She Will Be Loved** by Maroon 5

_'It's not always rainbows and butterflies, it's compromise that moves us along. My heart is full and my door's always open, you can come anytime you want.'_

 

 **Youngblood**  by 5 Seconds of Summer

_'Lately our conversations end like it's the last goodbye. One of us gets too drunk and calls about a hundred times. So who you been calling, baby, nobody could take my place.'_

 

 **Issues** by Julia Michaels

_'I got issues, but you got 'em too. So give 'em all to me and I'll give mine to you. Bask in the glory of all our problems, 'cause we got the kind of love it takes to solve 'em.'_

 

 **With Me** by Sum41 

_'I don't want this moment to ever end, where everything's nothing without you. I'll wait here forever just to, to see you smile, 'cause it's true: I am nothing without you.'_

 

 

**Guillotine** by Jon Bellion

_'Sleep on me, feel the rhythm in my chest, just breathe._  
_I will stay so the lantern in your heart won't fade._

_The secrets you tell me I'll take to my grave,_  
_there's bones in my closet, but you hang stuff anyway._  
_And if you have nightmares, we'll dance on the bed._  
_I know that you love me, love me,_  
_even when I lose my head.'_

 

  **Soap** by Melanie Martinez

  _'I'm tired of being careful, gentle, trying to keep the water warm, let me under your skin. Uh-oh, there it goes, I said too much, it overflowed. Why do I always spill?'_

 

  **For the Very First Time** by Museum

  _'Come beside me and take a deep breath,_ _lay your arms around me for phenomenal distress._ _Where did your conflicts go?_ _They've fallen asleep on empty words that you speak._ _Come a bit closer and do what you like,_ _lay your arms around me and enjoy the quiet._ _Where did your fortunes go?_ _For once again automated on each others skin._ _I'll wake you in the morning before the sunrise,_ _I'll show you how it sparkles on the inside.'_

 

**Heartbeats** by José González

  _'One night of magic rush, the start a simple touch._ _Ten days of perfect tunes, the colours red and blue._ _We had a promise made, we were in love.'_

 

**Green Eyes** by Coldplay 

_'Honey you are the sea upon which I float, and I came here to talk, I think you should know. That green eyes, you're the one that I wanted to find.'_

 

**Drive You Mad** by Amy Shark

_'Sleep on the grass, you take my hand, I take you way too fast. You said you feel like there's nothing you can't say, and I felt that yesterday.'_

 

**Youth** by Troye Sivan

  _'What if, what if we run away? What if, what if we left today? What if we said goodbye to safe and sound?_

_'Cause we've no time for getting old, mortal body, timeless souls. Cross your fingers, here we go.'_

 

**Safe and Sound** by Taylor Swift

_'I remember tears streaming down your face when I said I'll never let you go, when all those shadows almost killed your light._

_Just close your eyes, the sun is going down. You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now. Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound.'_

 

 

 

 


End file.
